#exhausting crushes

[Danganronpa 2 spoilers thru the 3rd trial. You can start from ch 1 here: https://ao3.org/works/51548557/chapters/130285615]

Hajime doesn’t have a crush on Komaeda. It’s just that, now that the girls already brought it up, he can’t stop thinking about how bad it would suck if he did.

It’s Sonia’s fault, really. As the Ultimate Princess, it's her job to decide what’s true. To impose her will on the world around her and expect it to bend to her. Sonia got it in her head that there was a problem to solve, and now suddenly there’s a problem. And the problem is that, all of a sudden, Hajime can’t just be fucking normal around Komaeda. 

“Hajime!” a scratchy voice greets him, and Hajime spits his coffee halfway across the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Komaeda says sunnily. “I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite. I should really know better, haha! Looking at me would make anyone sick.”

“N-No,” Hajime rasps. He’s still trying to wring the coffee out of his alveoli. “That’s n—” 

But he can’t force the words past all the coughing. Which is annoying, because for once, Komaeda doesn’t seem to be in one of his moods. His eyes shine clear and bright: serpentine, not jade.

“Haha! Sorry, Hajime. That’s luck for you. But hey, I’ll see you around!”

Hajime can’t swallow around the lump in his throat. So he chokes on it. 

###

“You’re being really annoying,” Chiaki tells him later.

“I’m what?”

“Being really annoying.”

Okay, so he obviously heard her. “How so.”

“All this stuff about Komaeda,” she says calmly, without looking up from her game. “I mean. If you want to know what he’s thinking, shouldn’t you just ask?”

Hah. Wow. Right. Shows how much she knows. Komaeda would never just answer a question. That’s why Hajime has to stay two steps ahead by never asking one.

Chiaki looks dubious. “Are you sure you’re not just scared?”

“S-Scared??” Hajime sputters. “How—or, I mean—of what?”

"I dunno." Chiaki’s eyes stay locked on her screen. "Being wrong. Being embarrassed. Not being on the same page."

“Wh— I’m scared of dying!”

Chiaki's game lets out the crunchy little blip-blp-bl000p of Game Over. When she finally looks up, she looks distinctly unimpressed. “You and everyone else.”

###

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. 

The girls just got in his head a little. That doesn’t mean they’re right. Sonia gets fired up about all kinds of stuff that isn’t real. J-dramas, mostly. Sometimes she’ll get so wrapped up in a series, it's like she can't even remember where fiction ends and reality begins. She’ll start prodding Hajime to trade his tie for an ascot, or begging Chiaki to let her put her hair in pigtails ‘please, Chi-chan, just for tonight; I just know you’ll look -just- like Ai-sama!’

This is probably the same thing. Probably Sonia has been binging some ridiculous BL office drama and got it in her head that Hajime and Komaeda are star-crossed lovers, and not just two normal kids having an insanely traumatic semester. (Well. One normal kid and one total wild card. But the point stands.)

Hajime just has to remind himself of what’s real. By hanging out with the actual Komaeda. And then he’ll remember that, in real life, Komaeda is fucking terrifying. 

Besides. To have a crush on someone, you probably need to know literally anything about them. Any tiny, insignificant little detail that feels true. And Hajime knows full well that he’s never gonna get that from Komaeda. Komaeda is a mystery wearing another mystery as a hat. He’s a ludicrous fucking layer-cake of facades. Masks on masks on even weirder, more unsettling masks until you finally accept that you’re never going to reach the bottom, because it’s masks all the way down. 

…Like he said. Fucking terrifying.

###

Hajime is just wandering down the beach, thinking about how to track down Komaeda without Chiaki and Sonia finding out and getting all stupid about it, when he trips over a lump in the sand and falls flat on his face. 

“Oh!” the lump greets him giddily. “Hajime! What a nice surprise.” 

…Just his luck. “Hey, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda laughs. “Are you ever going to drop the formalities? You could call me anything you want, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Uh huh.”

“Even if it was really mean.”

Hajime had got that impression, yeah. “Is there something you want me to call you?”

“Huh? What I want doesn’t come into it! A worthless animal like me shouldn’t get any say in the matter.”

Ugh. Komaeda always looks so cheerful when he’s degrading himself. It’s honestly really disorienting. “Komaeda-kun, then.”

“Haha! You’re so stalwart, Hajime. So unyielding. The hope that might be born of such resolve… Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps!”

“Komaeda-kun,” Hajime says abruptly. He almost loses his nerve when Komaeda aims that double-barreled mirrored stare straight at him. Then he remembers that he definitely doesn’t have a crush. “Do you—uh. Do you ever think about anything other than hope?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Like… I dunno. Stuff that catches your eye, or… stuff you want. For you, I mean. Not for ‘humanity’s future,’ or whatever.”

“Haha! Oh, Hajime. Even if I did want something, what would it matter?”

“But if it did.”

Komaeda frowns. (Hajime can never tell if Komaeda is making fun of him or listening with deadly seriousness. Or if maybe it’s both things at once? You can never really tell, with Komaeda.)

“‘But if it did,’” Komaeda muses. “Hm. I guess I must have desires, like anyone else. But I’ve never seen any correlation between wanting something and getting it. So maybe I’ve inoculated myself against… I don’t know. Expectation? Since it doesn’t seem very useful.”

Hajime lets out his breath. As usual, Komaeda’s given him a lot to think about. And as usual, Hajime has no idea what to do with it. “...Komaeda.”

“Yes, Hajime?”

“Do you ever just… not talk?”

“Haha! What an interesting question. But of course I do! Even a worthless animal like me can appreciate a comfortable silence, just like any other man. In fact, some of the most meaningful moments in my life passed me by without a single word. Just the simple understanding shared by two people who have no need for speech. Why do you ask?”

“Huh? Oh. No reason.”

###

“Hajime-kun,” Sonia tells him that night. “Your behavior of late has been… untoward.”

Huh? “Huh?”

“Or, rather—not untoward, but, perhaps… unseemly?”

“...Uh.”

Sonia sighs. “You are distracted, Hajime-kun. Which is wholly understandable, in the circumstance! I am not displeased so much as I am… concerned. Do not fear, Hajime! Such a trifling concern could not threaten our bond! If someone were to invoke the blood-rite of disrespect, I would not hesitate to take up arms in your name!”

“Oh. Or, I mean. Thanks?”

“Of course!! You are my comrade, and I yours! Should the need arise, I would defend you to my dying breath! ...But I would, of course, prefer to avoid such an outcome altogether.”

Hajime is lost. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you're getting at.”

“Oh my god, Hajime,” Chiaki huffs, startling them both. Hajime thought she’d been asleep for hours. “She’s obviously talking about Komaeda.”

“In what world was that obvious??”

“Chiaki-chan speaks the truth,” Sonia admits. “I have the utmost admiration for you, but… I fear that this fixation may compromise your focus.”

“This what?”

“No, Sonia’s right,” Chiaki cuts in. “You’re all over the place, Hajime. No offense.”

“Wh– Of course I’m offended!”

“Unresolved tension poisons the mind,” Sonia agrees, nodding. “Left unchecked, it is as insidious as any neurotoxin. And your wits have been our salvation three times over. I wish to believe that no more of our beloved friends will come to harm, but…” She bites her lip and then shakes her head fiercely. “No. I will not allow it. I will not lose anyone else. Which means that I cannot allow you to succumb to distraction.”

“Okay? I… won’t?” 

“Then you’ll speak to Komaeda,” Sonia tells him. It doesn’t sound like a question. “And seize the answers that you so desire. By any means necessary.”

Hajime runs out of patience. “What answers!! What’s even the question? …And I do talk to Komaeda, by the way. I just talked to him this morning. It’s just that trying to get a straight answer out of him is pointless. So I’m not sure what you want me to say.” 

“I see,” Sonia sighs. “You refuse to make your feelings known.”

“My—??? I don’t have any—”

She shakes her head sadly. “The hard way, then.”

###

So that’s how Hajime winds up locked out of his own cottage, in his pajamas, on murder island. Barefoot. In the middle of the fucking night. 

###

“You guys,” Hajime says. Endlessly, excruciatingly reasonable. “This is crazy. You know this is crazy, right?”

“It is for your own good!!” Sonia wails through the door. “We only want you to be happy!!!!”

“Oh, I’m happy,” he says darkly. “I’ve never been so happy. The only way I could get any happier is if I was in bed. In my room.”

He can just barely hear Chiaki’s breathy monotone. “You can come back whenever you want. You just have to talk to Komaeda first.”

“And say what!!”

“Only you can answer that, Hajime-kun.” That would be Sonia, of course, sounding just as self-assured as she is totally off-base. 

“And if I refuse?”

There’s no answer. 

Hajime rolls his eyes. He’s not sure how Sonia managed to talk Chiaki into this ridiculous little game—or if maybe it was the other way around? Frankly, it’s a little out of character for either of them. But he can sort of see how, together, they might talk each other into it. 

Not that it really matters. Hajime isn’t planning to stoop to their level. Even if he wanted to play along, what would he even say? Hey, Komaeda-kun. Sorry to stop by so late! It’s just that my girlfriends think I have a crush on you, and they’re worried it’s going to make me worse at investigating murders.

…Yeah, no. Hajime will pass, thanks.

He kills a few minutes on the boardwalk, kicking his feet over the edge of the bridge and looking at the stars. Once he decides that it’s been long enough to lend a little credence to his story, he hops up and raps on the door. 

“Sorry, guys. He didn’t answer. He’s probably asleep.”

“You didn’t even knock!!” Sonia shrills.

Chiaki’s voice comes through a little quieter. “You know we can see you, right?” 

Hajime thunks the butt of his palm against his forehead. No, he did not know that. Obviously. “You’re seriously not going to let me in?”

More silence. 

“You guys are being crazy,” Hajime mutters. “This is, like… mutiny, or something.”

“It’s only mutiny if you’re in charge,” Chiaki points out. “This is just coercion.”

“…You’re gonna feel really bad if I get murdered.”

“W-We have faith in our classmates!” Sonia squeaks. 

“Shh,” Chiaki hisses. “You’re encouraging him.”

###

What else can he do? Grudgingly, reluctantly, very much under duress, Hajime makes his way to Komaeda’s cottage. 

The lights are on, but he can’t hear any signs of life. There’s no huff of breath, no scuff of human motion. 

Hajime squeezes his eyes shut. This is a nightmare. He’s not even properly dressed. He was already half-asleep when the girls asked him to “investigate” the “weird noise” that they definitely didn’t actually hear. So instead of his uniform, he’s stuck in a pair of ratty sweats and a sleep-shirt worn so thin that it’s more hole than cotton. It would almost be less embarrassing to lose the shirt entirely. But only almost.

Whatever. The girls just need to think that he tried, right? Then he can set all this exhausting crap aside and go to the fuck to bed. 

He raises one hand and taps at the door with just the tip of one fingernail. If he’s lucky, Komaeda won’t even notice.

“It’s unlocked!” Komaeda calls cheerfully, because of course he does. Because Hajime has never been lucky in his entire stupid life.

Well. No turning back now. 

Hajime takes a breath and shoves the door open.

###

Komaeda wasn’t lying. The door is totally unlocked. Hajime peers through the crack with all the grim trepidation of a man called to identify the body of his only son. "Uh. You, uh. Don't lock your door."

“Are you suggesting that I distrust our beloved classmates?” Komaeda asks mildly. He's lying on the floor, for some reason, even though his bed is literally right next to him. “That’s not very hopeful of you, Hajime. Besides. To be a stepping stone for such powerful hope would be my life’s greatest honor. If one of you Ultimates deigned to dirty your hands with my blood, I could die truly happy.”

Huh. It’s weird… Komaeda is saying the same weird shit as ever, but. It’s like his heart isn’t in it, or something? For the first time that Hajime can remember, Komaeda looks tired. Chewed down to the bone. Even when he was chained up in the old hotel, uncomfortable and underfed and utterly alone, he never looked like this. 

And why is he wearing his normal clothes? It's, like, one in the morning. Hajime might not remember how he got to this island, but he still found a neatly-packed suitcase waiting for him in his cottage. The dresser was stuffed with t-shirts and blazers and crisp white button-downs, a wardrobe that some fundamental corner of his brain recognized implicitly. But Komaeda’s room looks barren. Untouched. Like there’s no one living here at all.

Now that he thinks of it, this is probably his first time seeing inside Komaeda’s room. He’s not sure what he expected. Sculptures made from fingernails and human hair? A shrine in worship to some vague, unspecified future hope? But Komaeda’s room looks the same as anyone else’s. Wide glass windows. White wood walls. Unvarnished floors. Except that Komaeda has a fridge, for some reason. Why didn’t Hajime get a fridge?

“Um.” Hajime shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He can’t stop thinking about the pajama thing. Surely Komaeda doesn’t sleep in skinny jeans. “Uh. Do you… really mean that?”

Komaeda finally looks up. When he sees Hajime’s sleepwear—the frayed sweats; the overstretched shirt—his eyebrows go up. “Trying out a new look? It suits you.”

“Fuck off,” Hajime says tiredly.

“I mean it.” Komaeda’s eyes linger on Hajime’s collarbone and then drift slowly, almost languid, down his chest. “Haha!! You’ve been holding out on us, Hajime-kun.”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “You don’t always have to make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I can’t figure out why everyone always seems to think otherwise. But putting that aside… What brings you here, Hajime? Unless…” Komaeda leans forward, suddenly eager. “Have you finally come to kill me?”

“Uh. No. Sorry.”

“I expected as much,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms. “Ah, well. Then why are you here?”

Right. That is the obvious question. “I'm. Locked out.”

“How strange! I thought our rooms only locked from the inside.”

Of course he wouldn’t just let it go. Hajime bites the bullet. “…Chiaki locked me out.”

Komaeda lets out a startled laugh. Hajime is at least 30% sure that this one is genuine. “But why was— Oh, Hajime, really? You and Nanami-san? Not that I can't see it, of course; two such inspiring minds, trapped in such… compromising circumstances. Still, Nanami-san is hardly worldly. However did you manage it?” Before Hajime can say a word, Komaeda is already answering his own question. “No… You would never make the first move, would you, Hajime? I’ll bet you let her seduce you.”

“Wh. What makes you say that.” 

For the briefest instant, Komaeda’s eyes flash with something like annoyance. “Haha! You’re an exceptional specimen, Hajime, but—if I can be honest? You’re unusually dense.” His smirk, when it arrives, comes with too many teeth. “I’ll bet you didn’t notice what she wanted till she reached out and took it.”

“It’s not like that,” Hajime says loudly. It is actually a little bit like that, but not in the way Komaeda means. “Or. Um. She just—sleeps over sometimes.” No, that still sounds way too suggestive. “Because of. All the murder?”

“I see. Because of the murder.”

“S-Sonia sleeps over too,” Hajime blurts out. Shit, is that better or worse? Why does it feel so important that Komaeda not get the wrong idea about Hajime being off the market? “Uhh. Chiaki wants to invite Kuzuryu. To sleep over. Also. As well.” What the fuck, what the fuck are you saying, why are you STILL talking????

“I see,” Komaeda says again, this time with a glimmer of amusement. “Well! That certainly sounds lively.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“You must have quite a lot of energy, for all that… hospitality.” Komaeda brightens. “Perhaps that’s your talent!”

God, Hajime hopes not. 

“You seem very flushed, Hajime-kun,” Komaeda says innocently. “Are you, perhaps, afraid?”

“Huh? No. Or—of what?” 

“To be alone with scum like me, of course! All alone at night, with someone so disreputable… Aren’t you just a little bit scared of what I might do?”

“What? No.” He’s surprised to find that he means it. Hajime really doesn’t see Komaeda killing him. Or anyone else here, actually. “You’re not gonna kill me, Komaeda. We’re both walking out of here alive.”

Komaeda looks impressed. “Do you know already how you’re going to die, Hajime?”

Ugh. “That’s obviously not what I meant.”

“Would you like to?” 

Hajime freezes. 

“I could tell you, probably,” Komaeda says. Still with that same friendly smile. “If you wanted.”

“Are you… threatening me?”

“That is a romantic thought,” Komaeda says thoughtfully. “But—no. I’m afraid that I could only take a guess. But I'm a very good guesser.” His eyes glitter. “Do you want to find out?”

“Uh,” Hajime chokes out. He tries to swallow, but his mouth is too dry. “But. Um. If you guessed right, and then it happened, then… isn’t it sort of like you did it?”

“Is that what you think?” 

“I asked first.”

Komaeda chuckles. “This isn’t a class trial, Hajime. I’m under no obligation to answer. But if you’re really that curious, then… yes. I suppose I do.”

“Oh.”

“Your turn.”.

“—Uh?”

“To answer something for me.”

Hajime stares like a deer in headlights. Tracking the coming impact but helpless to stop it. The thump of meat against the hood. The broken crunch of bone.

Komaeda smiles like a fox. “Why did Nanami-san lock you out?”

“Uhh,” Hajime says. “I—She thinks—or. I mean. Her and Sonia, they both… I guess they think I need to…” God, it sounds so fucking stupid. “I don’t know. ‘Understand you.’ Or something.”

“H-Haha!! Aw, come on, Hajime. Buy me dinner first, at least. I’m joking!” Komaeda laughs, while Hajime sputters. “After all, you’re our best and brightest hope. If you wanted to, you could take anything you wanted.”

Hajime chokes. 

Komaeda’s eyes narrow. “...Oh. That is what you want.” His mouth curves into a thin smile. It’s not a nice smile. “You’re easier than I thought, Hajime-kun.”

“I have to,” Hajime says, too loud. “Go. And. Break into my room?”

“The lock on the window sticks,” Komaeda says absently. “It never latches properly. So it’s easy to force it open.”

Great. That is really cool to hear from the scariest person on this island. “Uh. Thanks.” 

With one foot out the door, Hajime hesitates. “Komaeda?” 

“Yes, Hajime?”

“Do you know how you’re going to die?” 

For a second, Komaeda looks very, very tired. “Haha. Yes. I suppose I could take a guess.”

###

The instant his front door opens, Hajime is already hurtling through it. “I think Komaeda’s trying to seduce me.” 

Sonia brightens. “Oh, good for you!” 

“Yeah, congrats, Hajime.”

“No, I mean—”

“If this is about my prior concerns,” Sonia says bravely, “you needn’t worry! I've already come to terms. The chemistry was undeniable.”

Chiaki nods in agreement. “He’s grown on me a little. He hasn’t tried to kill anyone for ages.”

“He never—!!” Hajime takes a breath. “I just… really think he did that stuff because he knew we’d get through it.” I’m a very good guesser, Komaeda’s memory whispers, and another piece of the puzzle slides into focus. “He was… betting on us, I think. And. Trusting his luck.”

“Hah!” a new voice laughs. “Man, you sure know how to pick ‘em. You got a thing for blondes or somethin’?”

Hajime whips around. “K-Kuzuryu?????”

Against all odds, Ultimate Gangster Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko is sitting on Hajime’s desk, looking utterly at ease. When Hajime turns to stare, he shrugs. “Hey, I’m not here to judge.”

“No, I mean— What are you doing in my room???”

Kuzuryu bristles. “That’s a lotta judgment from a guy who’s shacked up with half the class, apparently.”

“I’m not—”

“Kuzuryu-san came looking for you!” Sonia says brightly. “He hoped to discuss something of grave importance! He was taken aback to find us instead, but it would have been horribly rude to leave him out in the cold.”

It is 86 degrees outside.

Kuzuryu’s hand finds the back of his neck. “Look, you don’t gotta dance around it, alright? I got it. I'll get out of your hair.”

“N-No, no, it’s not that,” Hajime rushes to explain. “It’s just. Uh. I… think we’re gonna need a bigger bed.”